Road Trip, With Windmills

Consuegra, Castilla-La Mancha, Spain

The yellow plains undulate before you like a gigantic quilt. As you glide along, if you’ve seen three other cars today, it’s a lot. The quiet hum of a Spanish-engineered air conditioner insulates you from the explosive, desiccant sunlight. There are four big indicators that you’re not in Nevada or Arizona:

The three cars you’ve seen are Renaults or SEATs, like yours.

The speedometer shows a number that seems impossibly huge until you remember it’s in in kilometers.

There are no advertising billboards. Only the wordless Osbourne bull creates a black shadow on the horizon.

Over the a. c., you hear strumming guitars, hollow cajones, rhythmic clapping, and voices that are somehow mournful and the most joyous sound in the world.

Driving through Castilla and Andalusia is one of the greatest simple pleasures I’ve found in life. I last did this with the man I love beyond words during our honeymoon five years ago.

Recently, I discovered that through the wonder of the internet, I can listen to radio stations from Spain right here in the USA. The full sensory experience of Spanish road trips came rushing back to me. I want to send out my sincere thanks to whomever set up this miraculous web streaming.

And wish a happy anniversary to my sweet husband!

¡Olé!